Day In The Life
by Hello Supernova
Summary: James Moriarty is the cold, dangerous consulting criminal we all know and love... except when he's drunk. Did he just... giggle? (Moriarty/OC, One-Shot) Inspired by khanyoujohnlockndropit of Tumblr.


A Day In The Life

James was well and truly drunk.

Isabella and Sebastian had come back from a mission late in the evening and found their consulting criminal lying on the leather sofa in his big empty mansion, a half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey in his hands.

Isabella had known James Moriarty for years now, and she was used to his antics by then, so she simply lifted his legs and sat down on the sofa beside him. Sebastian muttered something under his breath she couldn't understand and walked away.

"You got bored again, didn't you?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "I'm assuming the Reichenbach painting theft has been executed, then."

James moved to sit up facing her, grinning. "Yes. Sherlie will be falling in no time," He proclaimed excitedly.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he will be, dear. Just don't let yourself get dragged down with him, please."

"You're worried about me," He guessed, frowning, then holding out his arms with a smile. "Come here," He ushered.

Isabella raised an eyebrow, but obeyed anyway, chuckling quietly at his firm grip on her. She basically ended up on his lap, her head on his chest since she was so petite. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it was accompanied by his expensive aftershave and the faint smell of gun powder, making her assume he had been doing more than coordinating the Reichenbach theft that day.

James always turned like this when he got too drunk. He became cuddly and sweet, very reminiscent of a naive, bumbling fool. Of course, she knew that he was anything but innocent, and she would never admit that she even _liked _his dangerous side. She'd always been a bit lacking in morality, anyway, which was why she, James and Sebastian got on in the first place.

She typically just helped them execute James' plans, since they were men and men tended to go at things head on, shoot first, questions later. Despite James' almost scarily impressive mind, the reason he ran the largest criminal business in the world was because he had Sebastian to be his voice of reason, to pull him back into reality when his ideas left him delirious, and Isabella as his intuition. She was also very creative when she needed to be.

"You know I _really really really _love you, don't you, Isa?" James muttered. If she hadn't known he was drunk, Isabella would have been able to tell by the nickname. He would never use it when sober.

"Of course, darling," She replied, an edge of sarcasm to her voice even though she was smiling.

He pouted. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"You're drunk, James. Tell me again in the morning." She knew, of course, that he would have forgotten all of this in the morning, like he always did. She had gotten many declarations of love and gratitude from him over the years, as had Sebastian, but James never knew. Sebastian did enjoy filming his behaviour though, to one day 'serve as leverage', as he always said.

"No, I'm serious, Isa. I really do," He replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She just sighed, pulling out of his grip to stand up. She held out her hand. "Come on, James, we'll get you some water so you don't wake up with a raging hangover, yeah? You have work to do tomorrow."

He giggled childishly, taking her hand. "I don't get hangovers, Isa."

"That's because I always make you drink three pints of water before you fall asleep, love," She replied blandly. "You're horrible with a hangover. Very cranky."

Once in the kitchen, she got him a tall glass of water and set it before him at the kitchen island where he had sat down. "Drink," She ordered.

He jumped off of the tall stool, standing before his _friend_, placing his hands gently on her hips. "Why don't you believe me?" He whispered.

She shook her head at him. "You're drunk," She repeated.

"No no no, that's not it, Isa. Tell me," He demanded softly.

"James," She tried to reason with him. "You're not even going to remember this when you wake up. What's the point in believing a fairytale? This isn't you."

He was silent for a moment. "But I do love you, Isa."

He kissed her- gently, though it wasn't gracious at all. The whiskey she tasted was a reminder that it wasn't real, but she couldn't help relaxing into his touch nonetheless. He was soft and warm, his hands roaming tentatively and lightly, but Isabella knew that the James she worked with, the real one, would never be _tentative_. James Moriarty knew what he wanted, and he took it. It was one of the things she liked about him. He was never fickle or indecisive.

When he released her again, she simply smiled sadly, ran a hand down the side of his face and turned his attention back to his glass. "Drink," she said firmly. "And when you're done, drink another. Then another. I'm not going to work with you if you have a hangover tomorrow."

She made to leave the kitchen, brushing past Sebastian who was standing in the doorway with his phone camera pointed at her, his eyebrows raised.

"Shut up, Seb," She ground out.

She fully intended to go to bed and forget about the ordeal just as James would, but he came bounding after her before she even reached the stairs.

He grabbed her wrist, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand and kissing her with his childish eagerness once again. "I won't forget, Isa," He promised.

"Yes, you will," She stated, forcing herself to turn away from him and walk up the stairs.

After all, it wasn't real. Drunken James wasn't James Moriarty. He wasn't the legendary consulting criminal with his brilliant mind. He wasn't the man Isabella worked with, the man she loved.

She fell into bed with a deep sigh.

'_Just a day in the life_,' She thought, and despite all logical evidence, she hoped somewhere in the back of her head that this would be the time James remembered. That he would wake up in the morning and love her properly.

* * *

AN: This was inspired by khanyoujohnlockndropit. Didn't quite turn out as imagined, but James has a mind of his own!


End file.
